Days of Future's Past
by Sassiersphinx81
Summary: Part two of Unconventional Alliance. When Connor asks Juno to see Altair one last time to say goodbye, he did not know his presence in the past would give release to something far more sinister than he could ever think of.
1. Chapter 1

**Alright peeps, I am going to give you a heads up now. For the next few weeks, I am having a lot of work done on my teeth. I had three pulled on Tuesday, and I am on pain killers right now, so if you find any mistakes, let me know. I am not quite up to speed, but when I get an idea, I have to get it out of my head. So, here is part two of Unconventional Alliance, entitled Days of Future's Past.**

"And so, that is why we fight." Altair looked over at Ratonhnhake:ton. He had been in Masyaf now for a few days and they had taken that time to catch up on what they had missed in each others' lives. The Mohawk was impressed at the vast size of the fortress and stared like a wide-eyed child at the shear number of trained assassins that graced her walls.

He had nothing of the sort back home. It was him, and a handful of people he had recruited out of necessity, but they had grown to be his family and friends. Altair asked about the homestead and the people that he had come to think of as friends. Everyone had asked about him, and where he had gone off to, but Connor could not bear to tell them the whole truth, and so simply he told them that Altair was called home one night. It was the truth, to a point, plain and simple.

The warm breeze brushed his hair away from his face as he looked at his friend. "I see." He answered with a slight nod. There was so much about Altair's time he wished to know. To learn what made them so formidable and what had happened between now, and his time, to cause the decline of the assassins to terribly that all that remained was a ideal and a handful of people that were raised to believe it. "If it was this way in my time, I believe the Templars would not have been as bold as they were."

Altair shook his head. "We have become complacent in who we are now. The fortress here is a terrible testament of our arrogance. We must change in order to be better. To be more than what we have been." 

"But you have seen what change had rot." Connor challenged. The change would ultimately cause the decline of the assassin order until there was nothing left.

"But if we do not change, then the same will still come to pass. Time will correct everything we have done wrong. No matter if it was I that made the mistake, or if it is to be you. We all ride in the currents of time, and there is not a way that I have found to deviate from that intended path." The Syrian looked to his friend. "We were all born to be what we were born to be, but that does not mean we are to be puppets to that fate."

Ratonhnhake:ton would have to disagree there. Everything that had been done by his hands had been orchestrated by the unseen forces of the spirits that had watched over his people. "How can you believe that when you yourself were taken from your family and friends for little over a year to aid me on my journey, then sent home with no time passing? That, my friend, is being used as a puppet."

And that got a slight chuckle from the ancient assassin. "That is a most valid point. So it would seem that you have learned a thing or two about fate."

Cracking a smile, Ratonhnhake:ton looked onto his friend. "I have learned from one of the best."

Both men laughed. It was good to be in the presence of his friend once more, but he did not know how long it would last. The spirit, Juno, did not tell him when he would be sent home, nor of he even would, but his time was in capable hands. His assassins, and surprisingly, his father Haytham, would watch over the colonial states until such time as he was to return. If anything, he would probably be taken back to the point that he had been sent from. Just that thought alone was enough to give him a slight headache, but he brushed it off.

"Grandmaster."

Both men turned to see one of the younger novices jog over to where they sat. Connor saw him groan, but stood as the young man came closer. "Yes novice?" He asked as the boy came to a stop.

"A dove came bearing a message for you just a few moments ago. It bears the seal of Jerusalem." He was slightly winded as he held out the small rolled up message.

Altair took it into his own hands and thanked the boy for bringing it. Once the boy headed back inside, Ratonhnhake:ton watched his friend read the small note. Stepping to his side, he looked at the script, but could not make heads nor tails of the writing on the page. "Something bad?' He asked, raising his eyes to meet that of Altair's.

"Malik. He has things he would like to tell me, but to hear them I must travel to him. If he is withholding things in messages, he must think something ill." A sigh escaped him and his pushed the note into the pouch at his side. "I must ride swiftly to Jerusalem. Would you care to accompany me in this small endeavor?"

Connor weighted his choices. It was either stay in the stone fortress with no one, save for Maria, that could understand a word he spoke, or ride on the animal he loved, see more of this land that he had only heard about from Altair, and see a new city that he had only read about in books Achilles had him read? The choice was clear. "I will ride with you."

"We will depart within the hour. I must speak to a few people. Will you meet me at the stables at the edge of village? There you will find the horses." Altair looked quite troubled,and so he did not question his choice to sent him off alone.

"Of course. I will see you when you are ready. I gather that you will take care of the traveling supplies, or will we gather those once we are underway?" Crossing his arms over his wide chest, he raised a brow to the Syrian.

Altair looked up at him. "Huh?"

"Traveling supplies, Altair. Food, water? You have not forgot the basic equipment one would need so quickly, have you?" This must be bothering him if he was forgetting about supplies. "No worries. I will gather them as I fetch the horses."

"Thank you,my friend. The note is not like Malik at all. Something is not right." He rubbed his forehead as if a headache was encroaching on him. "I must get there as swiftly as time will allow."

"And how long will this journey be? I do not know the distances here." They began to walk into the keep. They turned to the left and up a small flight of stairs as they talked.

"No more than a days ride from here. So long as we are not followed by the Templars who want no more than to pike my head in front of the main gates of this place. If not for I, they would be ruling these lands along side my old master, Al Mualim." He spit out the name like a bad taste.

Connor knew the story behind the man and what he was trying to accomplish with the unknowing aid of Altair. Once the assassin had put the pieces together and knew what the older man had in store for the lands that he called home, he rode back here to confront him, won, and became the Grandmaster upon the remaining assassins regaining their minds. The youngest Grandmaster in history. Still held that title even in his time. No one had ever done what he had done.

"Then take care of what you will need, and I will see to the rest. I guess I can get by on what little you have taught me." Or so he hoped. He was not much of a learner when it came to the complex language that was Altair's native speak.

"Issam." He called for one of the young men that stood guard at the entrance to the gardens that they had just left.

The boy walked over, head high. They conversed for a moment in Arabic, making Connor scratch his head in wonder as to how they could speak so fast and understand one another. Once they were done, the boy bowed once more. Altair looked back at him. "Issam will accompany you to the market. He will translate for you what you will be needing for the shopkeepers. He is about the only one here that knows the English language."

"It is an honor to help out a master such as yourself, Master Kenway." The boy, Issam, bowed to him.

He was not sure what Altair had told his men about him, but he was fairly sure it had not been the truth. If that was the case, he was willing to take a bet that his throat would have been laid open in his sleep and as would have Altair's for witchcraft and the like. He would question the Syrian about it on their trip to the Holy City.

"I thank you, Issam." He bowed as well.

"Now that is settled, you had best be on your way. I will see you within the hour." And he walked away, but not before handing him a small pouch of coin.

Turning to his new assistant, he sighed. "Where do you recommend we go to get supplies?"

"I will take you there straight away, Master Kenway." The boy was eager to please and he could see that plain on his face.

"Connor will do just fine. I do not care for fancy titles and the like, Issam. Best you learn that now." A headache was beginning to form for him,but not for the same reason as the one he knew Altair had.

"As you wish, Connor." Issam tried out his name, and he was glad that he did not try to get him to call him by his Mohawk name. He probably would have been there all day, just as he had done with his father, pronouncing it syllable by syllable. He did not want to go through that again.

"Lead the way."

**This is the first chapter of the second part of Unconventional Alliance. Since I got so many people asking for a new one about Altair and Ratonhnhake:ton I thought I would work on it. I am going to warn you now. I will not be able to update until next weekend. I am so swamped week with doctor and dentist appointments that it is not funny. See you then. Oh and PS, I learned something new about Arabic names. I wanted to have authentic names for a few characters so I looked them up. Issam means safeguard, but Haytham is actually Arabic. It means son or eagle. I did not know that. You learns something new everyday. **


	2. Chapter 2

"Whoa,whoa." Altair pulled up slightly on the reins of the large white mare he was currently perched upon. She sidestepped a bit as her master brought her to a halt. Connor came abreast of him and stared in wonder at the size of the walls that surrounded the holy city of Jerusalem. He had never seen anything like what lay before him. Steep spires graced the skyline as he took all of the beauty in.

A chuckle came from his left. "Impressive, is it not?"

He turned his gaze to his companion, who wore a smirk upon his scarred lips. "I must agree. It is most impressive. There is nothing like this back in Boston or New York." Then he thought about the conversation he once had with Altair when he first arrived in his time. "You acted surprised when I told you about the building in the cities. You lied to me."

Altair merely shook his head with a smile on his face. "I never lied. I merely did not tell the truth. There is quite the difference, Connor. I did that because you did not know of anything from my time. I did it to save you the embarrassment of assuming you knew. As you see, I do not come from a time of heathens and barbarians." Then he thought about what he had just said. "Well, there are heathens and barbarians here, but I am not one of them. I believe in some aspects, I am vastly more educated than you."

"In some aspects." He grumbled, but he knew from the sights he had seen at Masyaf, the vast libraries, and the well trained men that guarded the citadel, he knew he had none of that knowledge in his time. He did not even have walls to protect his people.

Altair lept from his mare's back and looped her reins over a hitching post. "Do not fret. You will learn much from your time here. Maybe this adventure will help the Brotherhood return from what it had become."

Connor followed and looked at him. "Are you saying that the Brotherhood is falling apart in my time?" For some reason, that made him feel low.

"No, I am saying something happened between now and then to cause the decline of the assassins. We can fix the damage." Waving him towards the entrance to the city, they walked over to a small awning and following the ancient assassin, they slipped into the city unnoticed.

Once they found themselves in the city walls, Connor took in all the sights, sounds, and the rather unfortunate smells the city had to offer. People called from all corners selling their wares. The beggars walking around, trying to get just enough to eat. The tall structures that seemed to climb up and touch the heavens above. He took in everything, trying not to miss one sight. It was far different than what he had come from. Far different indeed.

"The city is a marvel to behold for the first time I am sure." Altair looked at him with an amused expression upon his normal stony face. "When I was but a novice, jut beginning my life within the Brotherhood, I stared like a wide-eyed youth at the activities that I now take as everyday. It was Al Mualim that first brought me to the Holy City and showed me her wonders."

Falling into step with the other assassin, Connor felt helplessly out of place with his little knowledge of the time, and feeling quite naive in all that was before him. "I must know, are all cities so vast in your time?"

Shaking his head, the Syrian turned down an alleyway. The buildings were tall, shading the alley, and it brought some degree of relief to him. His robes, although light, were not made as Altair's were. The wool that was used to craft the material was far heavier than what was used to create the simplistic robes his friend wore. Sweat had already drenched the neckline of his overcoat, and was seeping into the lightweight undershirt he wore.

"No, not all are as vast as Jerusalem. Some are smaller, such as Acre, or even Limassol. Others are far larger, or so I have heard or read. I have not traveled far from Masyaf except a time or two, but that was to a few port cities and my time with you. New York may have this city on vastness, but Jerusalem has more people by far." Altair strolled back out into the sun, and Connor bit back a groan.

People walked past them with hardly a care as to who they were, or their business. He saw people carrying jugs of water perched precariously upon their heads, walking in and out of the crowd without losing a drop of water. He nearly went slack-jawed when he witnessed a woman dodge a group of men, spun on her heels without the jug falling. He had never seen such a feat before.

"So many things are so strange to me here, but completely fascinating." He began to walk along Altair once more. The man moved through the streets effortlessly. Gently pushing people and avoiding the drunkards at all costs.

"I believe I said the same words to you when I saw Boston for the first time. There are may things that separate our times, but then there are others that are all together the same." He pointed to a man that walked along the edge of the roof. Instead of holding a musket, in his hand was a bow with a quiver of arrows slung across his back. "The guards that patrol know our clothing and will call for backup if we draw attention to ourselves. They are mainly harmless to ones such as ourselves, but once in a while they can get lucky. Their arrows are deadly, and swift, but I am willing to bet that your aim is much more precise than their own."

That made Connor feel better about being able to adapt to this new environment. "I have been using this bow since I was small. I could take them down if you needed me to with little effort." He smirked and took one more look at the men that were on patrol.

"And I have no doubt that you could, but I do not wish that now." He moved to the side and let a woman pass with a small child clinging to her skirt. "I will take you on a tour of the city more once we have found out what Malik must tell me."

Inclining his head, they walked the rest of the way in silence. The bureau was not far from their current position and they were there in a matter of minutes. Climbing the ladder that was nearby, Connor followed Altair into the inside garden. The fountain inside bubbled water into its holding basin and all the Mohawk wanted to do at that time was splash some of that water onto his heated face, but he waited and stayed behind Altair as they entered the building.

A man sat on a stool behind the counter, dark head bend over a map he was working on, eyes focused on his task. Calling out a greeting in their native tongue, he never once looked up. Altair replied before speaking in English.

"Malik, I would like you to meet Connor. I have told you about him." Altair stood before the counter.

Malik Al-Sayf sat the quill to the side and looked up from his work. His dark eyes examined him critically. "So this is the one you were sent to the future to help. You could have given him robes to help him blend in better, Novice." He shook his head, and the dark tendrils of hair fell nearly into his eyes. "But it is good to finally put a face with the name now."

"I am glad to finally meet you, Malik." Connor bent at the waist in a bow. "Altair has told me about you."

Cocking a brow, he stood, the empty left sleeve hung limply at his side, but he took no notice. "Coming from this man, I would imagine it was all bad." He smirked at Altair, who scowled at his friend. "But you did not ride all this way to hear me bad mouth Altair. Although at times, he needs it done."

"Malik." Altair growled, but the other man paid him no mind.

"You have come to get the information I hold." He walked over to a shelf and grabbed a rolled up parchment. "This is all the details you need." And he held it out to the Grandmaster. "I could not send something so delicate in a message. If this was to fall into the wrong hands..." His words trailed off as Altair took the parchment and began to read.

Looking over his friend's shoulder, he could not make out one word that had been written, because he had not a clue how to read Arabic. Maybe that would be something he would learn while he was here. It may be a useful thing to know when he was back at home.

"Care to translate for me, or will you leave me in the dark as I have done to you before?" He knew he had kept things from the older man before, and as revenge, Altair may do the same to him.

Once he was done and the parchment rolled up again, he shook his head. "The Templars are on the move once more. They seek another Piece of Eden. This time they ride east. To China."

"You are going to ride out and meet them, are you not?" He asked watching the two men.

Malik took his place behind the counter. "If they know where this new piece is, Altair, it could be trouble for you. They will come for the one you possess next."

"They will try and they will fail. Just as Robert De Sable did and Al Mualim." Altair growled and Malik shook his head once more.

"You are a fool, novice. You had the Brotherhood at your back when you took on the old master, and with Robert, you did not have an army wanting to pike your head. It was one on one combat, to the victor went the spoils. These men, if they find a new piece, will come with their prize, kill you and everyone that stands in their way." The dark eyed man replied and reopened the inkwell. Picking up his quill, he dipped the tip in the black liquid and began his work once more. "As your friend and adviser, I would recommend that you ride out and make sure that they do not find it."

Connor heard Altair's teeth begin to grind and he marveled at how calm Malik was as the other man's temper began to raise. "I am not fool, Malik."

A light chuckle came from the Dai. "Yes you are if you do not heed this. Your skills may be great and you may be the best among the brotherhood, but those skills can only keep you alive if you know your enemy. Ride out and observe them. See what they know. I tell you this because you are the Grandmaster and it is your duty to guide the rest, but you can not guide if you do not know."

Connor was impressed by this man. Not only had he insulted Altair, and called him out, he threw cold logic into his face that showed him the flaws in his thinking. "I must agree with him. His logic does ring true."

"I would advise you to stay out of this, Connor. You do not know what is going on." The amber eyes man growled as he turned to look at the Mohawk.

Malik snorted and sat the quill into the ink. "You have always been a stubborn fool. Look at it from this way. If they were to come, even without the Piece they so desperately seek, we know nothing about the size of their forces and who marches with them."

Altair stood and began to pace, which Connor knew that was how the other man thought. "So send someone to gather information. That is your job."

Malik's eyes hardened. Taking a step back, he knew that there was to be a fight between the two men and he was not sure as to who would come out on top. "I know what my job entitles, Altair. I am no moron. I have sent three men out to watch and observe. Three men all failed. Their bodies were found floating in the river nearby, heads severed. I now call upon you when all that I know has failed. It is either you go, or I shall in your stead."

They went toe to toe. Deciding to defuse the situation, he stepped forward. "If he will not go, then I will go in his place. If you are willing to put your life at risk to retrieve such information, then I will be as well." If that did not spur the older assassin to do the right thing, he was at a loss.

Those eagle eyes looked at him from under the white hood. "And pray tell how you are going to get the information if they speak something other than English? I do not believe the men around here speak in your birth tongue, Ratonhnhake:ton, and you do not know enough Arabic to even begin to courier information." Shaking his head slowly, he looked from one man to the other. "I will ride for their camps and see what I can find out."

Standing straight, Connor looked down slightly at him. "I will ride with you. I may not understand the language, but I will watch for men that try to approach you from the rear. We do not need you dead."

"If he is dead then I will not have to hear him whine about things that he should not whine about." Smirking, Malik leaned against the counter.

"Then close your ears." Altair countered. "I did not ask you to listen to my complaints. You have chose to do so on your own."

"I listen to have leverage on you in the coming years. Oh the things Maria would do to you if she ever heard some of the things you have said behind her back. I believe you would be sleeping with one eye open and in full armor." His eyes drifted to the ceiling. "It is a good thing you are my friend, and not my enemy or you, novice, would be dead from all I know about you."

Biting back laughter, he knew all of this was now in good humor. "Well, I believe we should be on our way if you wish to collect information."

"I will return once this is complete and we will take the next step." Inclining his head, Altair looked at his friend. "Safety and peace, Malik."

"Safety and peace upon you as well, Altair. Now remove yourself from my place." He gave a lopsided grin which was returned by both men.

**Don't worry, the chapters will get longer. I love Malik! * Fangirl squeal * I had to have him in this story because come on! A story with Altair in his time would not be the same without Malik. You need someone to call him Novice, and I'm pretty sure if Connor tried to pull that, the Eagle would shove him off one of the spires. (Holding up my hands) Just saying. Anyway, I am completely getting off subject. Thanks for the amazing reviews! Sorry I'm a little late. I have been sleeping... a lot! **


	3. Chapter 3

The enemy encampment was large and wide, looking like a small town of tents and banners. Ratonhnhake:ton could hear the smiths hammering away at whatever they were working on, need it be shoes for the horses, armament for the men that were to march into battle, or simple things like spikes for the tents. Guards patrolled the grounds, watching everything and everyone, trying to catch anything that was amiss on their watch.

He laid next to Altair on a high cliff, their sharp senses listening to all and watching the men. They had been like that for hours now. Waiting until the cover of night to fall for them to slip into the camp, and scout for their plans. He was glad that he had learned some form of patience in his time with the assassin that was to his right. He had always been the one to rush into a fight without thinking. Now, he could lay there for hours as he had been doing.

"The sun will be setting soon." Altair spoke in a hushed tone. It was not as if they were close enough to the camp to be heard, it was the simple fact that their patrols came close to where they had hidden themselves on the cliff. They dare not give themselves away lest they wanted to fight more men than could handle together. "We shall make our move after that."

A small nod of the head was all that he did. He knew what was planned. Slip in, gather information on their movements, forces, and the like, and slip out with none being the wiser. He looked down at his white robes and wished he had been wearing one of the darker colored ones at the time of his meeting with the spirit Juno. They would blend in better with the night.

An hour or so passed and the moon began its rise in the sky. The white-blue sky faded to crimson, then to an almost solid black with more stars than he had ever seen. The torches were lit and most of the men settled into their tents for the night. The smiths stopped their work, and the only sound that carried on the winds were that of the horses calling to one another, and the laughter of a few men drinking around a central fire.

"Come." Slipping from the underbrush, the Grandmaster of Masyaf brushed the dirt from the front of his robes. Ratonhnhake:ton did the same as he came to his feet. "Be at ready. If they have stumbled upon three of our brethren as of now, they will be on alert at the edge of the camp."

He rolled his eyes. "Do you think me a novice, Altair?" He hissed, not trying to control his disdain of the man thinking he was nothing more than a lowly apprentice. "I have done this a time or two. Or have you forgotten so easily?"

Both men square off in a battle of wits. "I do not think you are a novice, Ratonhnhake:ton. I think you can be brash and a bit of a hot head when it comes to things such as this. You have a tendency to leap before you look and to hell with what may come next. That is why I talk to you the way I do."

Connor's eyes became mere slits of brown as the words of the Eagle of Masyaf sunk into his head. "You are about the same way, Grandmaster." He sneered. "You are reckless when it is called for and sometimes when it is not."

Holding up his hand, Altair silenced him. "You just states 'sometimes'. I will not deny that, and you are right, but at this time, we must use stealth over everything. Now, we can stay on this ledge, arguing with one another until we have lost our voices and our enemy has left, or we can go down there and collect the information that we have come here for. It is your call."

Blowing the breath out his nose like a bull would do, trying to get his rage for this man in check, but he also knew he was correct in everything he had just said. "Very well, lead on."

The Eagle brushed past him, and lead the way down the cliff side. It was not high, but if they were to jump as they normally would, one would suffer a broken leg, or worse, death. So, they made it to the bottom, and ever so carefully made it to the edge of the encampment. The guards' focus was on their feet, so that they would not trip in the darkness and disgrace themselves in front of their comrades.

Slipping past the first set was simple. The light around the edge was poor and even with the white of their robes, they slipped past unnoticed by the men that wore such bulky armament. That was one thing that he was fascinated with was the way armor as now, and then in his time, yet a swift pull of the trigger from one of his pistols would end either life that was on the receiving end. Altair had warned him not to use the pistols unless he was in a fight that he could not win on wits and blades alone. If someone other than himself, or Altair was to get a hold of the weapon, it could change history too quickly.

The second round of guards were a bit trickier. Their gaze swept over an area that was well lit and open. He cursed silently at their luck, but watched as his companion pulled three knives from his belt, and with accurate precision, dispatched the men before they knew what had happened.

The bodies were drug to the far reaches of the camp, tucked into an unused tent. Looking at the men, he thought about all the times he had changed into the uniforms of the men he was infiltrate. "Altair, what if we were to take their armor? We could wander around their camp, listen to their talk, and get the information that is needed with no man here being the wiser."

The older assassin looked down at the men as well. He could almost hear the gears turning and the man thinking over what he had just said. "A sound plan." His head bobbed and he knelt down. "Let us be swift."

And within a few minutes, two of the deceased were stripped to their small clothes, and the assassins were fully disguised as guardsmen. Connor tugged at the chest plate. It was a bit snug on his larger frame, but the other set sat well on Altair's slender body. "Is no one here built as I am?" He groused as he moved his arm in a circle, feeling the leather straps of the armor shift and move uncomfortably on him.

He heard Altair chuckle behind the near full face plate. "No one that I have even known is as largely built as you are, with the exception of one man and he is dead."

"I do not know if I should take that as a compliment, or an insult." It was the truth. He stood out in a crowd because of his size, even in his own time, but it was just the way that he was born. "Let us move before I decide to take my chances in my armor once more." He pulled at the chest piece once more.

Exiting the tent, they made their way into the men that milled about and sat by the fire. Connor kept his head down, and ears open, trying to listen to anything that would help them. The men said nothing about their plans, but spoke of the women that they had seen in their travels and their multiple conquests. He shook his head at how these men looked at women as nothing more than something to appease their basic needs. Since he was raised by just his mother and his tribe was ran upon a matriarchal society, he at the most utmost respect for the fairer sex.

Altair turned sharply, and if he ha not been paying that close of attention to the Syrian, he would have not have seen his swift moves. The older man looked over his shoulder and his head motioned to a large tent that sat near the middle of the encampment. "I believe that is where we must. Would you like to create a distraction, or would you like me to?"

That made a smile spread across his face. Pulling out a few smoke bombs from the hidden pouch, he held them low. "I think I will do the honors, but you must be swift as the shadows. I do not know how long I will be able to keep them busy."

A small nod. "I will meet you where our belongs are stashed." And they went opposite directions.

*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*

Altair watched Connor for a time as the larger man slipped in and out of the men that milled around the camp. He knew what the man ha planned. He was going to kill a few guards, claim that an assassin was near the edge of the camp, and while everyone searched for this 'assassin', that would leave him free to claim the information that they so desperately needed.

Once the smoke was seen from the edge, and the men went running, he knew that was his time to slip into the tent. A men slept soundly on a small cot, oblivious of the things that went on around at that time, and that made shake his head, let his blade slip from the place on his left wrist, and the fire of his life was extinguished just like that. He took no pleasure in it, but the man was an enemy and could wake at any moment.

Leaving his victim where he was, Altair began to quickly go through the papers that lay about, and on the floor. They told of tales of objects that had been said to do great things. _These must be the Pieces of Eden they so desperately seek_, he thought to himself as he gathered up what he believed would be useful and may give them an advantage on their moments. Once they were safely tucked away, he stole from the tent, and made his way to the rendezvous.

Connor was already inside when he walked into the tent. He held out his white robes. "You had better hurry. I have them going the opposite direction we will be going, but they will learn soon enough that they have been lied to."

So, in haste, he was ready in a few minutes, guard armor abandoned in a pile, and he flipped the hood up over his head, thankful for the familiarity of the cloth that now donned his body once more. "Shall we take our leave?"

They left the camp in chaos and with a few less guards, but such as who they were. It was a day ride back to Jerusalem. They made small talk as they rode along the worn road. Altair kept his eyes open and alert. The Templars may have moved on after the Crusades, but some still lingered, wanting nothing more than to catch him off guard. They wanted his head for what he had done to the men that they called leaders, and what he had done to Robert Da Sable.

"Altair, what are you to do with the information we now carry? Will you pursue these men, or will you send you assassins after them?" Connor asked from his place on the back of the black mare.

He shrugged. "I do not know. If it requires myself to be there, then I will ride out and meet this treat, just as I have always done. What will you do? You should think about going home."

The larger man hung his head and sighed. "I do not know how to return to my time. The orb turned to dust when I appeared here. I guess I must wait for Juno to send me home, if she does at all."

"Do you not want to go home?" He asked, a eyebrow raised. That was one thing he had not been able to get out of him since he came.

Looking at over him, his face was neutral. "I must. I do not belong here, but in the same breath, I can still help you here. You were sent to help me when it was required. I believe that is what I am here for. To help you with this problem."

Altair thought about it, and it made sense. "Then we will deal with this threat so one ay you may return to your family. "

Connor snorted which he knew why. "The only family I have is my father and we fight more than two male wolves in the same territory."

"Haytham is must to take, but I will say one thing for him, and that is he is reliable. You can count on him having your back if he says he will." That was the only think him and the ex-Templar could agree on. That was the only common ground that they could ever find.

"That is true."

They lapsed back into silence as the towers that graced the skyline of the Holy City began to be seen on the horizon. He still owed the man a proper tour of the city. Maybe he would that to Malik. The Dai knew the city better than he did, and that would give him a chance to go over the information that he had managed to get in better detail. This was why he hated being Grandmaster most of the time. The endless paperwork, and trying to keep track of many men and their whereabouts. It got downright frustrating on the best of days.

After hitching the horses, slipping past the dimwitted guards at the main gates, and slipping into the bureau, he could finally breath easier. Malik looked at them as they walked in. "I am guessing that you were successful, considering you have walked back in with no visible wounds, and your lives are intact. Either that or I am consorting with phantoms." The edge of his lips twisted into a smirk.

"We are neither dead nor injured, and we were indeed successful." He pulled the satchel over his head and held it out.

Clearing the counter, he took it and began to empty it of its contents. "I should have sent you from the start." He smiled as he sorted the papers.

"I am the Grandmaster, you can not order me, Malik." Altair crossed his arms over his chest, a glare directed at the shorter man.

The dark eyed man never once looked up. "Oh can't I? I got you to go to their camp with little problem. I know you better than you know yourself sometimes, Altair. You still thrive on the chance and the hunt. That is why you are the best of us all, but sometimes that also makes you the most foolish."

Connor's hand covered his mouth to try and stifle the chuckles that came from him, but it did not work out that well. Altair sent a glare in his direction which did little to stop hem as well. "You have been warned, Ratonhnhake:ton. He will fin something on you to use against you as well."

The Mohawkian assassin held up his hands. "My life is an open book to other assassins. In this time, there is nothing you can hold over my head."

Malik finally looked up. "Oh I will find something, Connor. Believe that." And Altair knew that he would.

"Malik, would you take Connor on a tour of your city so he will not get lost if we were to become separated at some time?" He asked his friend.

"Of course. I need to go to market anyway." He looked from him to Connor. "Come. I will give you a better tour than this Novice could ever."

"Malik." He growled, but he knew it would not faze the other man.

"Altair." He smirked. "See? I know your name as well, but I will take him around the city. Please do not destroy my bureau before I return." His eyes shifted to Connor. "Come."

And they left, leaving him there to sort through the information.

**I am so sorry for the delay on this chapter. I have no excuse except I was being lazy. Hopefully I will get the next one out in a more timely manner. Thanks again for everyone's reviews, faves and followings. **


	4. Chapter 4

Malik looked over his shoulder at the towering man that followed behind him. Connor was a quiet type of person, only speaking when asking a question in regards to something he had seen or heard, but he never stopped watching for hidden dangers. It was something he himself did out of shear habit of the lifestyle he had taken to so long ago. But thinking about that statement, it had not been so long as he could not recall the coppery scent of his victim's blood, or the sight of crimson on his blade. It was not something one would forget so easily.

Taking his mind from what he once was, he slowed his steps and came to walk beside the future-born assassin. "How do you like my city, Connor?" He asked as he looked around the busy market.

"It is quite large. Larger than anything I have seen by far. How have you not gotten lost?" He looked down at the Dai, brown eyes large, like a child marveling at something for the first time.

Malik chuckled quietly, thinking back on a time not too much in the past. "Oh I have. I had to come here for a mission when I was in my early teens. A few novices were following an older, more experienced, assassin through the city. Altair and I were paired together, eyes scanning the streets for the man that was to fall to us.

"It was not long before his strange sixth sense allowed him to pick the man out of the crowded marketplace. We pursued our target into the narrow alleys of this city, and before we knew it, we were far from what we knew and recognized. My blade reached him before Altair could, but once the man was dead, we had one small problem. We had no idea as to where we were." He tilted his head to the sky, and thought about that day. It was the first time he had ever seen fear cross the assassin's face.

Connor watched him with complete attention, the city all but forgotten with the tale that was being told to him. "What happened then? Did your master find you?"

Shaking his dark head, he took in a deep breath. "No, we were on our own and night was beginning to fall swiftly around us. Altair came up with the hair-brain scheme to climb the tallest spire and get a better look at the city around us. I shook my head and told him it was the most insane idea I had ever heard of. What I did not tell him at the time was I had a fear of heights. It was not like I couldn't run along the roofs of the buildings and jump the voids that I had to. It was the heights that he was talking about that caused my heart to hammer in my chest and my palms to grow sweaty at the mere thought of being that high off the ground." He felt a shiver go down his back at the thought of the memory.

"Did you climb it?" It was as if he was on the edge of his seat, waiting to hear the outcome of the tale.

A smile crossed Malik's lips. "Not on your life. I would never climb that even if I was offered the throne of England. Just the thought now makes me weak in the legs." He shivered once more. "I left that to the Eagle. He was always the one that was climbing to heights only some birds dream of. Anyway, he climbed to the top of the spire as I watched for archers and the like. By the time he reached the top, all I could see was a speck of gray. That was when I saw him do the Leap from that high. Do not ever tell him this, bu I was in awe watching him fall from that distance, then land safely in a small cart."

Connor nodded his head. "I was a small boy when I first fell from the sky and experienced the free fall of a place high. I thought I was to die for sure as the ground rushed up to meet my body, but a pile of fallen autumn leaves caught me and saved my life. Needless to say, I did it again." He smiled at his own memory. "I have not stopped since."

"Not I. You will not find me climbing anything that high." Then his eyes diverted to the empty left sleeve that moved a small amount in the breeze. "But it is not like I can not do that anyway."

The assassin's hand rested lightly on his shoulder. "You are not defined by your limitations, but your mindset saying you can not do it. I have seen sailors lose a leg, but once they adapted to using a crutch or even a wooden piece, they are just as good as any man."

The Dai let the words sink in. He knew it to be true. He was limited in ways, but what he could no longer do with his arm, he could do with his mind. "Thank you."

A nod and a retracted hand, Connor looked around. "Do you think Altair is back at the bureau pulling out his hair in frustration yet?" A ghost of a smile was on his face, and Malik laughed.

"I would not doubt that. He was never one that could be idle for long. That is why when it comes to paperwork or long reads are better left to Maria or myself. He is more of a hands-on leader, and that is why the men follow him." Making a small motion with his head, he began to head back in the direction they had come.

They made small talk as they walked through the throngs of people that milled in the streets until both head the cries for help. Stopping swiftly, both men looked around, letting their ears listen, focusing on the cries. Malik pointed to an alley not far up the way. "It seems to be coming from that direction."

"Will you be joining me, or will you follow behind?" A smirk graced his face, and all Malik could see was Altair when he was a bit younger. That cockiness that served him well his whole life.

"I am more that capable of dealing with a few thugs and the like. I still have one good arm and I might know more about a blade that you, boy." He returned the cockiness with some of his own. He would not be shown up by this man, from the future or not.

The Mohawk nodded and gestured forward. "I will follow your lead then."

They took off at the same time, and as they rounded the corner, saw five guards surrounding a woman, shoving her between them like a group of children playing roughly with a ball. His eyes narrowed and his hand wrapped around the sword on his hip. "Release her." He growled, unsheathing the deadly Damascus steel, the dark blade glinted dangerously in the small amount of sun that filtered into the confined place.

The guards' heads turned in their direction, but their prey was kept firmly between them. The man that wore the heavier armor looked at them. "I will give you the chance to leave before my men tear you asunder."

Quickly translating for the man at his side, Malik could hear Connor's teeth grind. His were about to do the same, but he knew he could not show his anger. "You will not get the chance. Leave before you find yourselves meeting your ancestors before old age takes you."

The men laughed and shoved the woman again, who cried out in fear. "If you wish to end your lives so readily, then by all means, I will indulge your wish."

"You will regret that." He let the slow smile spread across his face as he rushed forward, the blade at the ready.

Glorious memories rushed back as he raised the blackened blade. It was as if the old Malik, the master assassin he once was, laid just under the surface, waiting for his chance to be what he had always trained for. The ender of the corrupt, the wicked, the men that did harm to others. That was who he once was, and to taste that life once more was glorious indeed.

The first man fell swiftly, his padded armor protected nothing in the wake of the dangerous steel. The second man, his chest plate protecting his vital organs, died quickly as the larger man's hidden blade entered through the exposed neck, slicing through the tender flesh and vital arteries, ending his life.

Swinging the blackened sword into the legs of another man, he grinned as the guard crumpled to the ground, and rammed the tip into the man's chest, stopping his heart. Connor took out one more and the last man's weapon fell to the ground as he turned tail and ran. It was a good fight.

Sheathing the now bloody weapon, he swiped the sweat from his forehead, and turned his eyes onto the woman cowering in the corner, tears pouring from her violet eyes. Holding out his head, he smiled gently down at her. "You are safe now."

Looking from his hand to his face, her tears did not stop, but she did reach up and he pulled her to her feet. "Thank you. I feared what they would have done to me if you had not stepped in." Her eyes were cast to the ground, but a shy smile crossed her lips.

"You are welcome, but I would advise you to run home swiftly and stay inside. I fear they may seek retribution for what we have just done." He released her hand, and she nodded.

"Thank you once again. If I may ask, what are your names?" She asked quietly.

"Malik A-Sayf and my companion is Connor Kenway." The larger man must have heard his name, and nodded. "He does not understand, nor speak Arabic."

"Then thank him for me, if you will. I am Salina." She bowed her head. "Thank you." And with that, she ran off into the waning light.

Malik stood there for a time as she rounded the corner, and disappeared. Connor came to his side. "What did she say?"

"Thank you and her name is Salina." He smirked. "Now, I believe we have been gone for far too long. We must get back. At least this was a nice little diversion from my normal boring days."

A deep laugh was his only answer as they walked from the bloodied alley and the dead men.

*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*

Altair shook his head and bit back a groan for what felt like the millionth time. He was still wondering why he had sent Connor with Malik into the city and not done it himself, but he knew he left so much for the other man to do and that he needed to do more in the information gathering in the Brotherhood.

Letting his head roll back, and as he looked up at the ceiling, his mind began to wander. Back to the snow covered fields near the Homestead, the rolling river that ran lazily through the countryside and down the steep cliffs, and the smell of the salty sea breeze that blew in from the bay nearby. It was all of the things that he missed about Connor's time. All of things he knew he would never see again with his own eyes, but could see in his mind.

He sighed and let his head fall forward, his chin coming to rest against his fist. The letters stated that the piece they so desperately wanted was somewhere in China. An old ruin that had been found a number of years ago. It was a sword that gleamed like gold, and caused a fear to spread over the men that saw it. That was something that should not be in the hands of the Templars. Actually, no person should possess it.

And that was what others said about the Apple that was now in his possession. Nothing could change that, except to find the deepest part of the sea and drop the accursed thing into the abyss, but he knew it would not stay gone forever. Things that were bad for people had a problem of coming back at the wrong time.

Heavy boots hitting the floor signaled that someone had arrived. Pulling up the hood that lay discarded around his shoulders, his amber colored eyes darted to the door that lead to the inside garden. A person who he thought he would not see for several more days still walked in, a smile on her pale face. "Maria, what are you doing here? I thought you were going to stay in Masyaf?"

Maria crossed her arms over her chest. "And I presumed you would have been back by now." Looking around, she saw no one else. "And where has Connor and Malik disappeared to? Have they left you to wallow in your own thoughts?" She chuckled.

She knew him all too well. "Malik has taken Connor on a tour of the city. That way if we were to be separated, he would not be too lost and would be able to return on his own."

"A likely excuse." She walked over to him, and spied the papers he had been trying to read for the better part of an hour now. "Are you actually doing work and not having Malik do it for you?" Her hand rested on his forehead. "You have not not fallen ill have you?" There was an teasing tone to her words.

Grabbing her wrist, the edges of his lips quirked up in a smirk. "I have not fallen ill, nor have I been switched by a man that looks as I do. I have chosen to do this work."

"Then I believe that is a first. I was beginning to believe that you intended to keep poor Malik in here until he died of either old age or boredom." Maria moved a bit closer. "You should allow him more access to the sunlight. One day he might try to kill you if you do not."

Pulling her the rest of the way until her smaller body was against his, he gave her a genuine smile, something he rarely did. "He may, but I will always be better."

Her blue eyes rolled heavenward. "And there is the ego that here I thought could get no bigger. I think that, and then you go and prove me wrong."

The smile that he held fell, as did his jaw. "I do not have a large ego."

"There are times, my love, that we have all wondered how you get that large head through the doorways of Masyaf." It was her turn to smirk at him, but laid a soft kiss on his stubble cheek. "But I do not mind it. I admire strong-minded men."

A small chuckle escaped his scared lips. "Then I am glad that you see me that way." And he kissed her squarely on her rose colored lips.

"Heathen." She shook her head as she pulled away from him slightly.

"Witch." Altair grinned, and these were the times he enjoyed with her. She was not afraid to speak her mind to him, and call him down when it was needed.

**I HAVE NOT DIED! I swear, I have not been in a coma for a few weeks! Well, the black hole was interesting, but that's besides the point. I have been so busy with all kinds of things. Meeting teachers, getting kids ready for school, then having to pick up a new washer. My poor, old reliable Maytag finally gave up the ghost and I had to replace it. Hopefully now that everything is behind me, I can get back to this. Thanks to everyone that has been reading. I will get to more action soon. See ya.**


	5. Chapter 5

The sun rose in the east as a new day dawned. Connor yawned as he stretched in his bedroll, his weary body not fully recovered from the distance they had traveled the day before. Malik had chosen to accompany them on their journey to find the Piece of Eden and he had welcomed the man. Altair was not so receptive to his friend joining them, but as time passed them by on the previous day, he began to grow accustomed to Malik and his banter on the Syrian's intelligence. Or lack thereof if you asked the one armed assassin.

Shrugging the light cover off of him, he reached for his undershirt and slipped into it. He still wore the clothing he came with only because of his size. The men in this time were not as large framed as he, so no robes were readily available for him to wear. But he did not mind. Wearing the assassin garb from where he was from gave him the piece of home that kept him connected to the world he had come from.

Stepping into the dim light of the first morning rays, he could smell the smoke from the embers that lay in the fire pit to the left of his tent. How he could go for a dip in a river at that moment, but here in the desert, there were no rivers readily available for that sort of luxury, and all water that they carried on their persons were to be used in cooking and drinking. The two men had warned him to conserve the water in his skin because they may not come across another source for a few days. They were on a path that was not normally traveled to avoid any run in with Templars or bandits.

Connor took a seat on one of the small logs that they had dragged to the fire, he ran a hand through the knotted thick black locks that covered his head. The hair on the sides of his head was beginning to grow long from where he had shaved it to the skin what felt like ages ago, but it could have been no more than seven months.

"I see you are an early riser. I admire that."

Turning his head, he saw Malik leave the confines of his own tent, black robe discarded for just a simple shirt and the tan pants, it seemed, that all assassins wore in his time. "I am, or at least I try to be."

The sound of a chuckle escaped the man as he took a seat on the log opposite of him. "You look as if you got little rest."

Running his hand through his hair once more, and winced as he hit a larger knot, Connor knew better than to try and hide things from the Dai. "I had another dream, or was it a vision? I cannot tell the difference in them most of the time."

Malik knew about everything. He had been Altair's confidante since this madness had begun. There was no one the Syrian assassin trusted more than his friend. Well, besides the woman he loved, Maria. "So, who was she speaking with? Was it to you, Altair, or the man she keeps mentioning?"

"The message was to me, but I understand little of what she actually wants from me. She will not tell me directly. Said that to understand, I must learn to listen. I have not a clue as to what she is speaking of." He shook his head. He understood little of Juno's cryptic words. For that matter, no one really did.

Giving a small nod, Malik smirked. "If you are anything like the novice, you too have a hard time listening." Connor was about to retort, but decided it was not worth it. Malik could one up everyone when it came to smart remarks and retorts.

So they sat there for a time as the sun made its presence known as it came fully up over the horizon, and waiting for Altair to finally come out of his tent.

The sun was starting its upward climb towards the day, and Connor finally had enough waiting. "If he will not get out of that tent on his own, I will go in after him." He stood and ignored the warnings his companion was giving. They had been sitting out there since the sky had just begun to lighten and here it was mid-morning, and Altair had not made an appearance.

"Altair, get up." He called as he threw back the tent flap and stopped mid-stride as his eyes focused on what was before him. The Syrian sat cross-legged on the ground, hand outstretched with the Apple resting in it. The artifact gave off a glow that filled the darkened tent. Visions, too fast for him to keep up with, raced around the canvas in no apparent order. Just visions danced in the darkness.

And as suddenly as they appeared, they vanished, leaving him standing there with Altair, who looked dazed. Blinking a few times, he finally looked up at the younger assassin. "Do you require something?" It was as if he did not realize what had just transpired in the tent.

"What was that?" Connor asked, looking down at the Apple that was still being held by Altair. He did not like the aura of the orb and chose to stay as far away from it as he could, but with the older man wanting to take it everywhere with him, for safe keeping he would reply, that was a feat to do. So he tolerated it for now.

"The Apple gives me glimpses of the future and I write down what I see. It is just for reference, nothing more." Getting to his feet, he dropped the orb in the pouch that always hung from his hip. He was never far from it.

Connor shook his head knowing that the man's 'glimpses' would get worse. He had read the book my Ezio Auditore that talked about the pages the man in front of him once wrote. They began to consume his life after his wife's death. The Apple was the only thing that kept him going in that dark time, and it would last years.

So he chose to just let it go, and shake his head. "We should have been traveling by now."

He caught a glimpse of the world outside the tent and a few curse words emanated from his scarred lips. "Why have you waited so long to fetch me?" He growled and began to gather his bedroll.

The younger assassin let out a bark of laughter, none that sounded happy. "I did not know it was my job to make sure you were ready to move. I will remember that the next time you decide that orb is more important than the Templars and their plot for world domination."

Altair shot him a death glare, which he ignored. "You should have some got me sooner."

"I am not your father, nor your keeper. I would advise you keep your priorities straight from here on out." And he took himself from the other man's tent and into the bright sun of the desert.

*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*

Malik sat astride his gray and watched the glares his companions shot towards each other. It was as if he was traveling with toddlers and not master assassins. Just as he thought it could not get any worse, Connor opened his mouth. "I believe you should give the Apple to Malik for safe keeping."

"Now wait just a damn minute. How am I to be drug into your little feud?" Malik looked at him, wide eyed. "I want nothing to do with that accursed thing. I wanted him to destroy it many years ago, but that has not happened."

Altair pulled his horse to a stop, and looked at Connor, who did the same. "The Apple is my responsibly. If it was not for me, it would be used for nefarious purposes at this very moment. I shall be the one that guards it."

"And you are letting it consume you! You are just too stubborn to let yourself see that. If you are not studying maps and new contacts, you are studying that orb. All it has done is brought destruction in its wake. Do you not believe that was why it was buried in that tomb to begin with?" The Mohawk called back, and Malik could not help but agree with him. He had watched his friend stare at its golden shell for hours on end, and everyone found it disturbing.

But they had to get moving. Something about this area did not sit well with him, and he believed that if the other two were in their right mind that they would feel it at well. "I say we decide that fate of the Apple once we set camp for the night, but until then, we have much ground to cover. We must keep moving. Much time as already been wasted this morning." Too much time, but he would not say that. They had not broken camp until late and then having to find a fresh water source had delayed their advance.

Coming back to his senses, the Grandmaster agreed. "We will talk more on the subject later, but I wish to make it to the sea before the week's end."

Snorting, Connor clicked his reins, and his horse moved forward. "Well we shall see on that. I know a stall tactic when I hear one. You will have to make a choice in the future on that artifact, Altair, and whatever choice you make will only bring heartache to all around you."

Malik blinked in surprise at the words of the other man. He had not known him long, but he had never heard such venom come from any words that he spoke. Granted, he and Altair were constantly butting heads, but they had never been cruel to each other. Altair, who sat atop his horse as well, sat in stunned silence.

Giving a flick to the reins in his hand, he caught up with the master assassin. He watched as Connor rubbed a few circles into his temple, as if his head hurt. That was also another action he had never seen that younger man do. "Are you well?" He asked in concern. They could not fall ill here. Towns were far and few between in this region and if something was to happen to the three of them, there would be no help from the outside world.

"A headache only." He replied as his eyes scanned the horizon. "I apologize for dragging you into that, but I believe he should not be the one to hold onto that orb for long. I will consume him."

He was beginning to understand. "You wish to prevent something that happens in Altair's future, if I am understanding you correctly." A small nod from the other man spoke volumes. "Then may I add something to your thinking. If you change the whole course of Altair's life, you will change your life as well. What if this was done for a reason?"

Connor's eyes flicked over to him for a brief moment, and back to the horizon. "What you are implying is that of I am successful in preventing a few events that are to befall him, it may change the fact that I am even born. I understand that, but I know what is to happen and it does not sit well with me."

Giving him a small chuckle, he shook his head. "You cannot fix everything, Connor. If I could do that, I would rewrite all wrongs that have befallen me in my life, but I cannot accomplish that no more than you can ride a flaming chariot through the heavens."

"Yes, but I can…" But a barrage of arrows began to streak from the sky. "Ambush!"

The three men pulled their horses to a stop, but it was not soon enough. Malik felt himself falling to the earth as his horse had been hit, and he caught Altair's horse throw him as the arrows spooked the white.

His back collided with the hard packed ground first, forcing the air from his lungs and jarring his teeth. Forcing himself to breath, he rolled onto his side, and coughed. The air was thick with the dirt the horses' hooves were kicking up. It coated the inside of his organs, making it difficult for him to take a full breath.

Someone grabbed him from under his arm, pulling him to his feet. Altair looked at him, blood running down the side of his face from a wound that he suffered that was hid from under the hood. "Are you alright?"

The Dai gave a nod. "I will be fine in a moment. Where is Connor?"

"He managed to stay atop his mount, and rode to find the ambushers. My horse is well enough to ride, but I fear yours is not." He pointed to where his gray pawed at the earth and that was when he saw the arrow jutting out of the muscles in the horse's front shoulder. "I will ride and help. You can either stay, or you can ride with me."

Sighing, he kept his eyes on his horse. "I will stay. You should hurry if you wish to join the action."

With a curt nod, the Grandmaster mounted his horse swiftly and took off to meet up with the other assassin. So he began to task of seeing if there was any way to save his horse.

*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*

When he arrived to the small battle, the body count was already beginning to mount. Connor was surrounded by at least a dozen men, all with the mindset of sending the younger man to oblivion. Dismounting, he pulled his sword from its scabbard and laid open the nearest man's back, watching the gore spray upward from his swing, and he dropped the ground, dead on impact.

Connor mast have seen him out of the corner of his vision, because as his first victim dropped, he moved forward, impaling another with his sword, then swinging around and imbedding his tomahawk into the skull of another.

Altair, as not be outdone, re-sheathed his sword, grabbed the hilt of his fighting knife, pulling it from the sheath on his back driving it into the chest of the man to his right, then as it came out in a spray of blood, he spun around, laying the sharp blade across the throat of another. The bandit clawed at the wound as he fell to his knees and succumbed to Death's embrace.

The rest of the men circled them weapons at ready as the two assassins stood back to back. Connor rotated his wrist, letting the tomahawk spin in a circle and Altair switched the large knife to his off hand, letting the deadlier blade side from his left wrist, poised to strike the first man that dared to advance on him.

"Is Malik alright?" The Mohawk asked over his shoulder, eyes not leaving his enemies.

"Well enough. He is tending to his horse." He called back and parried an attack that was intended to gut him. The man leapt backwards out of strike range before he could be killed.

The talking ceased as the men realized that the two assassins were on guard and not outright attacking. There was no need for that. The men before them would bring themselves to their own doom. They thought they had selected easy targets for plunder, but how wrong they were, and that would be their downfall.

So when the next man took his turn to try and end their lives, both assassins, as if in sync with each other, moved in for the kill. Altair slammed his boot in the man's gut, doubling him over and his hidden blade found its place in the base of his skull, puncturing the flesh and bone of his neck and ruptured through the front, killing him almost instantly.

Connor, on the other hand, was not so clean with his kills. His tomahawk, while a formidable weapon, was made for chopping, and it did not disappoint. He used that to cleave into one man's shoulder, driving it through the blade and into the chest until it became lodged in the bone of the rib cage. That was when he used his foot to knock the dead man off of it.

Altair was semi-elegant in his execution of his actions, while Connor was not. He would cleave and chop until the bodies piled up at his feet.

Once everyone was dead, the Syrian turned to look at his friend, only to come face to face with the muzzle of the flintlock pistol that he carried. He moved slightly, and Connor fired over his shoulder and he heard the final body hit the ground.

Rubbing his ear, trying to stop the ringing from the shot, he raised a brow, then grimaced when his fingers brushed the wound on the side of his head from when he impacted with the ground. "Did you have to do that?"

The Mohawk shrugged and reloaded the pistol. "It was either I do that, or you end up with a wound that clearly you did not need." Once he was done, he slid into back into the holster. "Now, shall we take their supplies and be on our way?"

The ringing was still in his ear, but he nodded, and began to look around. Clearly this was not their camp, but a staging area for poor travelers to be ambushed. "Take what you can. I will see if I can find a horse or two. I do not know of Malik's horse will be able to make the journey from here."

The two parted ways, Connor picking up what could be used by them on their journey, while Altair found three of their horses tired up on a tree not far from their location, but a camp nearby caught his eye. Switching to the Eagle Vision he had come to rely on most of his life, he saw a few red figures moving around. That must be their base. He could wipe them out alone, but that would not be a wise choice. For if something was to happen, there would be no way to get word to the others as to where he was.

So, walking back to where he had left Connor, Malik now stood there, his black robe torn in a few areas, but he looked fine, cleaning a wound the assassin had. "I have found their base." He announced and the two men looked at him.

"Did you see how many there was left?" The Dai asked as Altair moved into tie the bandage.

"No, but I say we wipe this men out so no more fall victim to their swords." He watched his two companions for an agreement and he was not disappointed. They both nodded and they began to plot on how to do what needed to be done.

**Wow, I can't believe it's been over a month since I posted anything on my stories! I am so sorry to everyone. I just lost track of time, and well, you know how that goes. Hopefully that will not happen again, but I make no promises. I hope to get back on my weekly updating, but I may fall late every once in a while. Hope you enjoy and thank you all for being so great with the reviews. See ya!**

***Sassiersphinx***


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